


The fragile heart you protected for too long

by Emmlan



Series: ABO_SoulmatesVerse [1]
Category: Pod Save America (RPF)
Genre: Alpha Tommy, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Blow Jobs, Bonding, Light Angst, M/M, Making Out, Masturbation, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Misunderstandings, Multi, Omega Verse, Pining, Sexual Tension, Threesome - M/M/M, White House era, alpha favs, omega lovett
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-21
Updated: 2018-04-21
Packaged: 2019-04-22 00:46:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14297109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emmlan/pseuds/Emmlan
Summary: Moving from being a beta to realizing he's actually an omega, from working on the Clinton campaign to being apart of the Obama White House, from the in crowd to West Wing pariah...It all leaves Lovett confused, alone, and longing for the only people that could make him feel complete.But, what if they're already complete without him?





	The fragile heart you protected for too long

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Laliandra](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laliandra/gifts).



> This gift is for the lovely Laliandra. You gave me so many great prompts. You didn't specifically ask for ABO but it wasn't on your nope-list either so I took a chance. We like a lot of the same tropes so there are still a lot of things in here that were on your wish list, hopefully you'll enjoy your gift!
> 
> Massive thanks to my wonderful beta, you know who you are, and you know I couldn't have done this without you!
> 
> Title is from a Jason Isbell song called "If We Were Vampires"

 

>  
> 
> _"Change will not come if we wait for some other person or some other time. We are the ones we’ve been waiting for. We are the change that we seek."_
> 
> **_\- Barack Obama_ **

 

**_\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_**

 

Working at the White House isn’t very glamorous. It actually involves work. A lot of work. Of course, Jon Lovett was aware of this when he accepted the position as speech writer for the newly elected President Obama. But, being aware of an abstract concept and actually living the reality of it are two different things. The campaign trail had been rough enough, writing speeches for Hillary Clinton, living every minute for a future in which she’d win, only to have her not even get the Democratic nomination.

Lovett was quick to bounce back from things, and when he got the call from the Obama side of the race, he hesitated but only briefly. The White House was the goal, and he was getting there even if it was for a different president than the one he’d first envisioned when he set that goal. Things had changed since the campaign, for him personally as well as for the country, but in the end it was a no brainer.

The reality of actually working at the White House, and the amount of work required, was not something he ever could have pictured. Which is probably why it took him so long to notice.

Also, everyone was acting very normal about the whole thing. If there would have been any kind of weirdness he would have detected it a whole lot sooner. “It” being the fact that the head speech writer and his new boss, Jon Favreau, apparently was in a relationship with one of the guys from Communications, press-secretary Tommy Vietor.

 

The day he finally realized, he’d already been at the White House for months. They were actually working on the upcoming fourth of July address which was only about a month away at that point.

During one of the read through sessions that was just the president, Favreau and Lovett, Obama casually asked Favreau about Tommy’s parents coming to visit. He joked about it, asking if he was getting on well with the in-laws. Now, Lovett knew the president was liberal and open-minded but it was still surprising to detect how he just mentioned it with zero weirdness, almost as an afterthought.

Favreau just laughed, looking comfortable as ever, and replied in earnest. As the president moved his attention back to the speech, Favreau quickly glanced at Lovett as if to asses his reaction, as if only then realizing he may not have already known. Lovett’s reaction had been gobsmacked shock. His face possibly expressing some of the turmoil going on inside. He probably appeared horrified. Because....

Because Favreau and Vietor are both alphas. And that’s… That’s still not a very common pairing even in today’s liberal society, a society where dynamics are meant to dictate as little as possible in terms of how people choose to live.

 

It was the first time Lovett had met an alpha/alpha pair, and he was obviously the only one bringing weirdness into it. He couldn’t really help himself. Even later, when the shock should have worn off and he remembered the brief moment of hurt that had appeared in Favreau’s eyes as he gauged Lovett’s stunned reaction, he still couldn’t shake it off.

Society is nowhere near as prejudiced as it was a century ago, Lovett knows that. Biological differences are just that, biological. In the eyes of the law, the government, and society - there’s no difference in how an alpha, a beta or an omega are treated. Technically, there’s not supposed to be a difference. Just like there’s not supposed to be a difference in how people of different skin color, sexuality or religion are treated. They shouldn’t be treated any differently. The key is the word ‘should’, because of course people are still assholes and harmful stereotypes still exist.

 

The mainstream ideal is this: a white, married heterosexual couple, usually two betas -- or an alpha and an omega that treat their heats and ruts discreetly --  that go to church every Sunday, produce 1.5 children, and live in a suburb with a white picket fence and a dog.

That’s the golden standard.

Most people are betas. In ancient human history betas couldn’t procreate, but as the alpha and omega populations decreased nature saw to it that betas evolved and kept the world populated. There have always been fewer omegas than alphas, leading alphas to compete for mates -- they are biologically wired to fight, and that fighting has historically lead to a decreasing alpha population. The evolution of betas is something different religions and cultures have explanations for but Lovett’s never really paid much attention to them. The history of dynamics was never a very appealing topic for him. He prefered to not think about it. It was easy not to think about it much at first, because just like most other people, he assumed he was a beta. His parents are betas, his siblings are betas. Usually alphas and omegas present around puberty and that didn’t happen for him, so he thought he was fine.

Turns out, he was not.

 

Later on, he learned that it isn’t uncommon to present later when introduced to someone you’re very heat compatible with. It’s almost like imprinting, some people even call it soulmates. Lovett just thinks it’s biological bullshit for specific bodies to be predestined to attract each other.

Still, it was hardly surprising that he was forced to meet his fate in such a way. Fate clearly likes fucking with him.

It was not Lovett’s idea of a great time to spend three days writhing on a hotel bed in the midst of a primary campaign. He should have been by Hillary’s side, going through last minute details of speeches so they could beat those smug Obama bros. Instead, he was experiencing his first heat at 25 years of age and it sucked.

Between the two campaigns, the only alpas he knew of at that point were the ridiculously gifted and disgustingly attractive Favreau, and that other stupidly handsome kid, Vietor. They were the only ones who had disclosed their status on either campaign. Lovett spent a lot more time with the people on the Clinton side so had the culprit been an undisclosed alpha in that camp he would have presented a lot sooner. Logic dictated that he was heat compatible with someone on the Obama campaign. He wasn’t sure yet whose fault this was, but whoever it was he wasn’t a fan. Fuck them. Fuck them very much, whoever they were.

Lovett wished he could go back to living in beta bliss. He wasn’t sure he could make it long if he’d have to go through life being different from the ideal in almost every way. If only there was a way to fix this.

Eventually, he found a way. Through copious internet searches, with a dramatic primary campaign racing ahead around him, he found a doctor specialising in dynamics and got suppressants prescribed.

 

Before he could start taking the medication he made an effort to stay away from anyone he knew was either alpha or omega. Which was fairly easy since now he could really smell things in a whole new way, he could smell their dynamics from miles away.

This of course also meant they could smell his and he really wanted to avoid that. He specifically wanted to avoid any Obama alphas, be they Favreau, Vietor or some unknown alpha asshole.

Lovett still wasn’t sure which one was his compatible partner, but he really didn’t want to know either. It’s possible he would have felt differently about finding his match had he not been raised a beta and lived that way for all of his life. He wanted to lick his wounds from the primary loss, get on the suppressants and go back to living his normal beta existence. No alpha had the right to change the way he was going to live his life.

Taking the suppressants was a sweet relief, he still had the enhanced sense of smell but it was more muted, and nobody would be able to smell him. Nobody would be able to tell he wasn’t a beta or be able to figure out if they were imprinted on him or not. Back to beta bliss, just how he liked it to be.

 

Maybe he got a bit over confident, maybe he thought he could keep this up forever. Maybe he should have paid more attention in dynamics class or widened his Internet searches a bit. Because when the Obama people reached out after their November victory, and offered him a job as a speech writer under Jonathan Favreau, he accepted.

 

This is where, if he was giving testimony in front of a jury about the chain of events, Lovett would claim temporary insanity. Because really, what was he thinking? He willingly went to work for someone who was not unlikely to be his “fated” partner.

So what was his reasoning? How did he justify this to himself? Part of it was pride, wanting to work at the White House and not letting anything get in the way of that. Then there was also a part, a small but insistent part of him, that was curious. He wanted to find out who is compatible heatpartner was.

In weak moments he dreamed about meeting them, being able to tell who it was just by being in their presence again. Getting to know his alpha really well before finally revealing himself, getting off the pills, stop pretending. Living happily ever after with his perfect match. In his weak moments those may or may not have been his thoughts.

In moments of more clarity, he was disgusted with himself when he recalled ever having entertained such thoughts. Fate and happily ever after, bullshit. It was all just stupid biology and he wasn’t bowing down to it. He is Jonathan Ira Lovett damnit and he marches to the beat of his own drum.

So he accepted the job. Pride was the winner in the end. He should have remembered the old saying, that pride comes before the fall. The fall was hard. He didn't realize he’d climbed so high until he came tumbling down.

 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

His first few months at the White House had been a lot of work yes, but there had still been a weird sense of peace over it all. New people to get to know, a lot of important work to be done. Being in a spot where it felt like what they were all doing mattered, made a difference, would be noted in the history books.

He enjoyed spending time with the alphas he knew about, and he never came across any other alpha or omega during those first months.

Vietor would seek him out sometimes, they could sit for hours and talk about anything from geeking out about video games to complaining about the latest Republican talking points.

With Favreau he mostly worked, but even so they took small breaks and just chatted about the world and their lives, their passions and motivations. Favreau was so smart, so smooth.

Lovett never really got to know either of them deeply, there wasn’t enough time for that. He knew he’d missed out on a lot by not campaigning with them, there were inside jokes and stories dating back to those days that most of the people in the White House shared. But they all made an effort to include him.

 

The only real issue during those first few months was when he almost went into heat again. Thanks to the suppressants it only became a pseudo heat that he could fight off with extra pills.

What caused it? He’d spent too much time with his potential alpha. This was actually the first time he thought he could pinpoint who his alpha was. Vietor had touched him for the first time earlier that day, just a light pat on the shoulder. That was clearly a pat too much.

This realization did make him question his first heat, when he presented. Wracking his memory of that day, he really couldn’t remember Vietor touching him. He couldn’t even remember interacting with him then, no more than seeing him walk by in the hotel lobby. So who was it that had brought on his first heat? There was really only one answer to that question.

Here he was, in the midst of a powerful pseudo heat brought on by one alpha, realizing that another one had caused his first. That time, Favreau had touched him. A brief bump of shoulders as he’d brushed past Lovett in the cafeteria.

Great. Not only had Lovett agreed to come work for someone who might be his alpha, he’d truly entered the lion’s den because he was now realizing that they were both his alphas. What were the odds, huh? Dynamics don’t discriminate, that much is clear.

The pseudo heat brought back his ideas of revealing himself to them. He spent sweaty hours in his bedroom after that, choking down moans by biting his pillow as he jerked off imagining it. How he would tell them to stay at the office after hours. How he’d close the door to the office he and Favreau shared. How he would have gone off the pills just hours before and how they’d suddenly be able to smell, be able to tell that he was theirs. God. He’d never come so hard in his life as he did after that particular fantasy.

 

He was just working up the nerve to actually confront them, to come clean, to reveal himself. When the “incident” happened. The one where he found out.

So not only was he feeling gobsmacked shock, he was also deeply hurt.

Yeah, Lovett may be prejudiced about alpha/alpha relationships and he would need to work on that. But the heart of the issue for him wasn’t that. It was that they were perfect and they were perfect without him. They had never been waiting for him to come out to them, to reveal himself as the missing piece to their puzzle. As far as they were aware, they were the puzzle. No chunky, ill-fitting Lovett piece was needed.

 

The weeks after Lovett found out about his alphas’ relationship were so awkward compared to his first few months of working at the White House. So much more awkward. Now, he’s close to reaching a breaking point and he’s not sure what’ll happen when he gets there.

He’s been trying a lot harder to avoid Favreau’s earnest eyes, as if he’s just waiting for a moment to clear the air and talk to Lovett about what’s obviously bothering him. Lovett refuses to let that happen.

They work together on the speeches and then Lovett retreats to his own desk or to his apartment where he hides in his room for most of his spare time. He no longer sticks around to listen to Favreau talk about other things, he never shares small parts of himself anymore either. It’s pure professionalism on his part and then there’s him putting as much distance between them as possible. He tries to avoid spaces where he knows Vietor might be because he knows how easy it would be for him to be weak and allow himself the comfort of his company.

He thinks he could’ve been friends with Vietor, that maybe before he found out about him and Favreau they were halfway there. He thinks Vietor, or Tommy as he insists to be called, may even think they are, despite Favreau surely telling him about what happened. He knows he could’ve been friends with Favreau. He’s not even calling him Favreau anymore, in his mind. He’s taken to calling him Favs just like most other people on the staff who had been there since the campaign.

It disgusts him sometimes, this cult-like vibe of shared memories he’ll never get access to since he was on the other side of the primary campaign, it leaves a sour taste in his mouth, a hollow feeling in his gut. Because as much as he protests, as much as he disentangles his life from theirs, as much as he never approaches Tommy and always avoids Favs’ silent offers to hang out after office hours, all he wants is to be in with them. He would drown in them if he could.

 

One night, as he was heading out, slightly later than usual, he saw them together for the first time.

It happened as he walked through an empty West Wing, on his way to grab a hat he’d left at his desk before heading out. He heard hushed voices coming from his and Favs’ office. Fuck. He could’ve live without that hat in his life for one night, he could’ve gotten it the next day. He could've just left. He should've just left.

Quickly he tried to figure out if he could pick a different route so he didn’t have to walk past the room. Alas, the quickest way out was past the slightly open door.

Lovett braced himself. As he passed by, he heard Tommy’s voice in there as well as Favs’. It was too tempting, he couldn’t help himself, he stopped in his tracks and snuck a glance.

Favs was sitting on his desk and Tommy was standing in between his open legs. They were embracing, whispering something to each other, touching softly. There was something so sweet and quiet about the whole scene. Something so right and special. It hurt. It hurt so bad.

Lovett suddenly couldn’t breathe, his legs started to shake. As they started kissing, he quickly turned on his heel and ran out.

Yeah, he could be friends with them. But. That’s not all and that’s the scariest part because they already have each other and as unlikely as an alpha/alpha relationship is, they seem very happy and everyone seems so happy for them. So he can’t. He can’t even let himself entertain the thought of getting closer to them.

 

Another thing Lovett hadn't expected was for his White House life to be so lonely. Turns out that distancing himself from Tommy and Favs, meant he really didn’t have anyone to hang out with. In the early months he was the center of attention in every room, like he was used to. His natural charm and sense of humor could always be counted on to sway a crowd.

Then everyone closed ranks around the two golden boys.

Alyssa just looked at him with equal parts pity and reproach as she made plans with Dan the other night, and was clear not to include Lovett. “Are Jon and Tommy coming out?” she asked as she walked away, clearly directing the question towards Dan but not really caring if Lovett heard.

 Everyone seems to think he has a problem with his boss and his boss’ boyfriend. An intern even implied he might be homophobic which made him go off because excuse you, Jon Lovett is a gold star gay thank you very much.

Eventually Ben interrupted and said that they were all well aware of that but sometimes interns get the wrong idea, and in this case could you even blame them? They were all crammed into a small office space working on a speech when the intern made her faux-pas, so Favs was watching the whole thing. He never intervened even though his eyes were on Lovett the whole time, searching.

“Relax,” Favs told him a while later as the intern left and Ben was on the phone with Dan. “After that telling-off, I doubt anyone will ever accuse you of being a homophobe ever again.” There was a small twinkle in his eyes, as if Lovett’s rant had been amusing to him. Lovett’s heart jumped in his chest, it made him so dangerously happy to be the cause of a Jon Favreau smile.

“Well,” he said, not able to stop now. “Being thought of as a homophobe is bad enough, but the underlying implication that I’m a straight man is worse. I can think of few things being worse than that. Me? Straight? In what universe?”

Favs laughed at that, and Lovett smiled. Maybe he could do this. Maybe he could keep his distance but still have small parts of this. Maybe then at least no one would have the impression that he’s a judgemental prick when he’s truly not.

Fate as it turns out has other ideas.

 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It’s a hot day towards the end of July, about a week after Lovett made it clear to the entire White House population that he is not a homophobe. It’s a Friday and for once they’re not expected to spend the weekend at the White House.

Starting Tuesday morning there’s a big foreign trip to Asia that a lot of the staff are joining the president on. The few days leading up to it are mostly meant to be preparation. Favs is of course joining, and Lovett promised to look over a draft of one of the speeches and email it to him by Sunday night. Lovett is staying in DC, so he’s spending Friday afternoon at the office while most of the travellers have left.

He thinks he’s in the clear. He won’t have to think about ways to avoid Favs and Tommy for at least a week and he won’t have to feel so hurt by the people who still thinks he hates them. He’ll be alone but it’ll seem more natural since a large portion of the people he would normally hang out with, if they actually weren’t loyal enough to reject his friendship, are away.

 

“Hey Lovett,” Alyssa says on her way out. “Favs forgot his copy of the last edits the president made, could you bring them to him when you leave?”

Lovett just stares at her, mouth agape. “Can’t you…?”

“I honestly can’t and you live just around the corner from them. Come on, don’t you think I’d ask anyone else if there was someone else who could do it? He needs those notes Lovett, you know that.”

“OK, I’ll go. I’m not...of course I’ll go.”

“Good, and just...don’t be rude ok? Just...you don’t even have to say much or stay long just give him the notes and leave them be.”

It still blows his mind how thoroughly he has them all deceived. That they actually think he would...It hurts. I hurts him to the core. He can hardly breathe.

“I would never…” he gets out. Him, always talking, always laughing, always joking. On this topic he is mute.

“Sure,” she says. “Anyway, have a nice weekend.” And she’s out.

He still has a couple more things to finish before he too can leave but now his heart feels heavy. It’s hard, being a social butterfly, needing the validation of your peers, and most of the time having to perform for an audience that merely tolerates you.

And just because he’s avoiding them, doesn’t mean he’s stopped paying attention to them. In his mind he keeps a library of facts he learns about ‘his alphas’. Ughh. He wants to smack himself in the face every time he thinks of them like that. When he thinks of them as ‘his alphas’ or ‘soulmates’ or ‘destined’ for him. It is romanticised dynamics bullshit and he really isn’t here for any of that.

Yet, here he is. Cataloguing their likes and dislikes, how they move around each other and other people, how Favs scrunch up his brows when he’s paying attention to someone talk about something of grave importance, how Tommy’s shoulders get tense after a long meeting. 

In another section of that library in his mind, he keeps topics he’d like to discuss with them, debates he’d like to have. All the times he’s heard them discussing something either between each other or with other staff, and he’s bitten his tongue and held back instead of getting involved and sharing his views.

 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Lovett doesn’t really notice just how hot it’s gotten outside since he’s been comfortable inside the West Wing all day. But when he gets out and gets on his bike he realizes he’s in trouble. There’s roughly a 25 minutes bike ride to the apartment Favs and Tommy share. Then there’s another 10 minutes to the place where Lovett lives with a bunch of interns who aren’t great for conversations but pretty good at indulging his gaming habit.

Anyway. The air is humid and hot. He can hardly breathe through it and he’s not even started peddling yet. They did say something about a heatwave, he recalls. He saw something flashing by on CNN while he was working. Of course he didn’t bring water with him and of course the heat is so bad that not even his khaki shorts are keeping him cool. Great. What a great way to start the weekend.

The bike ride is excruciating. His thoughts however, are worse.

 

Lovett is about to be faced with the reality of Favs’ and Tommy’s place. He knows where it is because he knows these things about them, these facts that he has collected and kept safe.

Every day on his way to and from the White House he passes by their apartment building. Ever since he found out that they’re living there as a couple and not just as two straight bros being roommates, he always makes himself look away. Never lingering on the house or on the window he knows belongs to their apartment. Never wanting to risk catching even a glance of them or their life together. If he ever did, he knows he’d struggle not to stay, hiding at a distance, just watching them. Dreaming about walking up, inviting himself in, inserting himself in their space and never leaving. So it has been easier to not even look their direction as he’s peddled past.

Now though, even if he stays in the doorway, he’s going to see where they spend their free time. Oh God...He’s most likely going to be faced with both of them, with the reality of their joint life.

He’ll see their hurt and confused faces as he does his usual aloof avoidance. It’s going to be painful. He’s going to be so tempted to just give it up. Fall to his knees in front of them, beg for forgiveness, give them all his secrets on a silver platter. Stay on his knees while they punish him like he deserves...No!

No. That’s not an appropriate line of thinking, fuck you brain, fuck you very much. God. He’s too hot. This is inhuman. Through the daze he thinks he can see their apartment building. Finally. The cool, air conditioned air that hits his face as he makes his way indoors is enough to power him through into the elevator, up to their floor until he’s suddenly there, ringing their doorbell.  

 

“One second!” the voice from behind the door sounds like Tommy’s. But Lovett’s not sure because he’s currently not sure about a lot of things, such as what fresh air actually feels like or how he’s even standing up right now.

The world is spinning, in his clammy hands he’s holding onto the papers he brought for Favs as if they are a lifeline. An anchor. The only thing keeping him centered. There’s no air. Just hot, humid, sweaty existence. His legs tremble, he feels nauseous but he is not going to throw up on their doorstep, no thank you, he still has some dignity.

The door opens.

 

“Lovett!” Tommy exclaims. Favs, lurking behind him, comes into view. Lovett tries again to catch his breath, tries to speak despite the desert currently residing in his mouth, clogging up his throat.

“I brought you these,” he gets out. Holds out the papers, waves them impatiently towards Favs, small, uncoordinated movements. Tommy steps aside a bit, a slightly concerned look on his face, brow raised.

“Are you…” he starts just as Favs finally grabs the papers. The second Lovett feels the papers leave his clenched fingers, the world spins into an empty all consuming darkness.

 

Somehow, when he comes to, he’s not on the floor. From how his body feels, like he’s not bruised all over, he’s assuming he never hit the floor.

He slowly opens his eyes, blinking. He’s on a couch. In a room he’s never been before. Oh.

 _Oh_. This is their living room. They’re both standing there, hovering over him. They must have caught him when he passed out. Because yeah, that clearly happened. Holy shit, Jonathan Ira Lovett, way to be a fucking cliche. Passing out at his alphas feet, literally on their doorstep.

 

“Oh thank God you’re back, we were worried we might have to call 911,” Favs says, holding out a bottle of water. “Drink this.”

Lovett doesn’t need to be told twice, without speaking he grabs the offered bottle and downs it in one go. That felt good. He feels a bit better now. Physically at least.

“Sorry about that,” he eventually manages to get out as he puts the empty bottle down on the side table. “I didn’t realise how bad the heat was, I should have brought water with me when I left the office.”

“You biked here?” Tommy asks, even though he should know the answer, Lovett bikes everywhere, he doesn’t even have a car in DC. Lovett still nods.

“Yeah I just...clearly didn’t think this through. But hey, you got the edits now so that’s good.” He directs the last sentence at Favs.

“Thanks,” Favs says, sounding awfully sincere and grateful. Ugh. Way to bring that charm when Lovett’s already feeling weak and vulnerable. Damn it, he was never even supposed to enter their space and now here he is, propped up on pillows on their couch. Fuck.

 

“Anyway,” Lovett starts, while also trying to get up, he’s still a bit wobbly but he can work with that. Maybe he can walk the last bit to his place, that’s fine. “I really should get going.”

He sees them exchange looks, as if speaking to each other without actually speaking, and judging by the frowns, he has an inkling it’s about him.

“You’re dehydrated,” Tommy says. “And overheated. You should stay a little while longer, just to make sure you’re ok. We can talk about that game your were telling me about a while back while you rest.”

Favs opens his mouth as if to protest but stops himself midway, then smiles sheepishly. “I don’t really know much about umm...those games you like, Tommy.”

Lovett rolls his eyes. “It’s ok Tommy, I know you’re not into any of those games I usually go on about. And I can clearly see there’s no console in here. You don’t have to pretend anymore.”

Tommy’s blushing now. “Was it that obvious? But you can still...I mean it’s nice to hear you talk about something you’re passionate about. It’s really no bother.”

Oh no, this is bad, Lovett can feel a smile form on his own treacherous lips. Damn it. He’s so screwed. “It’s ok” he says. “I won’t bore you with details of my latest COD adventure. But I guess I can stay here for a bit longer, to recuperate some more.”

Thirty minutes tops, he thinks to himself. That’s all they’re getting. You go, Lovett, you strong independent man, set boundaries! Set a deadline! “This is a pretty comfortable couch,” his mouth adds before his brain has time to catch up. This is going to be a long thirty minutes.

 

Awkward silences are so not his thing. This latest month or so of his White House experience has unfortunately included plenty of those but he never gets better at dealing with them. This time is no different.

“So...this is where you live huh.” He eventually says. The other two are still just... standing there, not quite hovering anymore but clearly awkward about what to do with their hands and feet and overall existence.

“Yeah,” Tommy replies to the non-question. “It’s not big or anything but it’s nice to have our own space. Not like on the campaign trail.” Their eyes meet and they laugh, sharing some memories of better days, surely. Then it’s like they catch themselves and stop abruptly, looking over at Lovett awkwardly.

He just nods.

“No I get it,” he gets out. “I’m living with a bunch of college kids. It’s not ideal.”

Favs laughs at that. “It’s weird right, we’re not THAT much older but...those interns, man.”

Lovett nods. “Right! They make me feel ancient,” he exclaims overly enthusiastic, nervous energy bouncing off him. Before he’s able to stop his mouth from forming the words, he’s blurting out: “Anyway...aren’t you going to give me a tour of the house?”

“Oh! Of course. You haven’t been here before...I almost forgot. Shit, we’re terrible hosts.”

Favs is so lame, it’s zero percent believable that they forgot the elephant in the room that is Lovett’s constant avoidance of being near them outside of a work setting.

“You ok to stand?” Favs asks. Lovett nods and gets to his feet again, noting he’s a lot less wobbly now. Good sign. He follows them out of the living room.

 

“So the kitchen is...well we like it, but we honestly don’t eat here very often, you know how it is, late nights at the office,” Tommy is gesturing at their tiny, yet charming kitchen.

They got all the appliances one might need, Lovett observes absentmindedly, there’s even a fancy coffee maker, one of those french press ones. His brain helpfully supplies that Favs is a coffee snob always going for the more refined caffeine options when possible, just another fact he’s collected about them. He’s clinging to these details now, in an attempt to stay grounded and not inhale too deeply. Because he can smell them, and it would be so easy to just...smell. To fully take in their scents. So easy. This is why he never lets himself be close to them anymore. It would be so easy to ruin everything.

He wonders what he’d smell like to them if he didn’t have the suppressants blocking his scent. He wonders if they’d like the way he smells. Stupid, stupid, of course they would. They’re heat compatible with him after all, they’re the whole reason he presented in the first place.

Only he’s clearly not why they presented, he knew they were alphas long before he met them. From what he’s heard they both had a pretty standard puberty in dynamics terms and presented around then. He’s not even sure anymore if they’re matched to him the way he’s matched to them, now that he knows that they’re unconventionally tied to each other.

Just one more thing that hurts. Just because your biology screams soulmate, destiny and perfect match doesn’t mean the other person’s biology is screaming the same. It is rare for it to differ sure, but hell, Lovett is used to being the oddity by now. Rare is his new normal.

He needs to stop thinking about it.

 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The bedroom gets a very quick stop on the tour, just a brief opening of the door, he spots what looks like a pretty comfortable bed and some wardrobes, then they’re quick to close the door again.

He looks at them for a minute instead of looking around the rooms as he’s been doing for most of the tour. They’re fidgeting, clearly nervous and almost as agitated as he is.

It seems as if they think seeing their bed is going to send him over the edge.They’re watching him carefully, as if expecting him to break at any minute, fall apart in front of them. Or maybe, more likely, that he’s going to explode. That he’s going to suddenly be struck by where he is and what they do here when he’s not around and lash out. Which shouldn’t surprise him, it’s obvious they still think he has a problem with them. He really should fix that.

“It’s nice,” he says, meaning the apartment, attempting a smile. “I can see why you like it. Must be nice to come back here after a rough day and just be.”

Favs smiles, small but genuine. “Yeah, it is. It really is.”

“We’re still pretty bad at leaving our work at work though,” Tommy admits and all three of them laugh because that’s the least surprising thing any of them have said all day.

 

They’re back in the living room and Lovett notices that he has a bunch of new notifications for messages and missed calls on his phone.

“Shit, I forgot to put the sound back on,” he grabs it and starts scrolling, brows furrowed.

“Something wrong?” Tommy asks, Lovett briefly takes note of the fact that Tommy’s standing closer to Favs now than he has in the entire time Lovett has been there. As if they’re both lowering their guards a little, no longer as worried that Lovett is going to throw a fit.

Lovett sighs, groans almost, very dramatically.

“It appears that today is not my day and fate hates me, but what else is new. My roommates inform me that they have vacated the building because our stupid AC decided that the middle of a fucking heat wave would be the perfect time to break. And of course it’s not the only broken one in DC, so no repair person is gonna be able to fix until Monday.”

“Wow,” Favs says, then stops, his mouth slightly agape as if he’s contemplating what words to speak next.

“So where are they going?” Tommy asks.

Lovett keeps scrolling furiously, trying to get his heart rate to slow down. Now is not a good time to have a panic attack, it’s just not.

“They’re staying at different friends’ houses which is great for them. But I’m still fucked because I don’t know if you’ve noticed but I’m not exactly Mr. Popular of the West Wing. Oh fuck it, maybe I can find a hotel or even a hostel for the weekend. There has to be at least one with a vacancy and functioning AC.”

It’s a decent idea and he’s already opened the browser on his phone and started to type in relevant searches.

“You should stay here,” Favs says, Tommy humming his agreement.

Lovett’s head shoots up, gaze travelling between both of them, bewildered.

“Yeah, I don’t think you’ll find a decent hotel on such short notice,” Tommy says. “And I mean...I mean unless it makes you uncomfortable enough staying with us that you’d rather risk bed bugs at some hostel...”

Lovett cringes. He really doesn’t want that but he can’t do this. He can’t be here with them for any longer than he absolutely has to. If he stays here with them tonight, he has no idea what’s going to happen. His panicked mind is conjuring all sorts of scenarios but in none of them does this pan out well for him.

Lovett, sleeping on their couch while they retreat to their bedroom, being able to hear them and smell them in there while he tosses and turns all night. Lovett, accidentally coming clean to them about everything and them rejecting him, hating him, throwing him out in the middle of the night. Lovett coming clean to them and them not hating him. Them being understanding, pitying him. Letting him down easy, offering cuddles on the couch as a substitute for all the things he can’t have. Sending him off in the morning with condolences for all the things they won’t give him.  

“No,” Lovett says, voice trembling. “Bed bugs would really cramp my style,” he attempts a joke. He really can’t see a way out of this. Maybe he should stick to a hotel. There’s no way this won’t end in heartbreak. “I...I appreciate the offer but... I’m not sure if…” Lovett stumbles on his words. Once again his mouth decides to speak before his brain is fully ready. Great.

“OK. Fine. I guess I can survive a night here. So far I’ve seen no indications that you’re mass murderers. There is a strict vetting process in our line of work and what’s good enough for the president is certainly good enough for me,” he quips, trying to regain control over the conversation. Trying to once again feel as if he has solid ground underneath his feet.

They smile encouragingly at him. In for a penny, in for a pound.

“For the record,” he adds, his heart pounding so hard in his chest he can feel the beat in his ears. “I don’t feel uncomfortable about staying with you. I think it’s really nice of you to offer since I’m practically a stranger, and I really appreciate it.”

It’s quiet again as they take that in, exchanging looks.

Then there’s resolve settling over Favs face.

 

“Lovett,” he says. Sitting down on the couch, carefully patting a spot beside him for Lovett to sit, as if beckoning a wounded animal. Tommy sits down on the armrest behind Favs, placing a hand on his back.

Lovett gulps, unable to decline the gesture, and sits down facing them on their couch. He has a hunch where this is going and panic is once again ringing in is ears. He has to fix this but he wishes desperately he didn’t. Wishes he’d never fucked up this much in the first place. Wishes fate wasn’t such a bitch to him all the time.

“It’s...it’s obvious we make you uncomfortable. And that’s...we’re not going to pretend it doesn’t hurt us. Or that it isn’t frustrating that we haven’t progressed further as a society to have gotten rid of any kind of prejudice that you’ve acquired towards us. But it is your prerogative to feel that way. We can’t stop you from feeling what you’re feeling but…” Favs stops, getting a bit choked up, Lovett can see Tommy’s hand stroking his back, soothingly.

“But it would mean a lot to us,” Tommy continues. “If you’d give us a chance. We’re still...we’re still just Tommy and Jon. We try not to shove our relationship in anyone’s face but we’re not going to ignore each other in your presence either. So you’ll have to deal with it. Hopefully in a better way than you have so far.”

“It’s not like we told everyone to avoid you,” Favs adds, sounding remorseful. “We don’t want you to be lonely. They’re just...protective of us. If you could act a bit less...intimidated, or almost frightened, by our presence when they’re around I’m sure they’ll treat you better.”

Lovett has his hand on his heart, he can feel it trying to escape his chest, he’s closed his eyes not by choice but by necessity, he can feel tears trying to break through. Breathing in hurts, like suddenly the air is hot and humid again despite the fact that logically he knows the AC is working just fine.

He starts to feel like he’s on fire, but it’s probably just the blush he can tell is creeping up from his chest to cover his entire face. It’s time to fix this.

He opens his eyes.

 

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I know I’ve been acting like an asshole. I don’t...I swear I’m not frightened or intimidated by you. I’m sincere when I say your relationship doesn’t make me uncomfortable.”

He’s fidgeting, can’t quite get his left leg to be still and he really can’t make himself look at them right now, placing his gaze above their heads. This part is so difficult for him, he needs to fix this but he can’t be all the way honest and it’s a weird balancing act to be doing in their living room.

“The moment I learned about it I was shocked and I handled it poorly. I’ve felt bad about it ever since. The point is... look, I like working with you both and it’s been killing me to be the cause of such a weird tension around the office.”

Lovett has never felt more awkward in his life, having to admit all this. It’s embarrassing and he’s feeling claustrophobic, his fight or flight mode has kicked into high alert. He wants to get out of this situation right now, but he knows they deserve his honesty. He swallows nervously, and finally lowers his gaze to look at them.

“And that’s the truth,” he finishes.

 

The truth, or most of it anyway, he thinks. He pushes his sweaty hair away from his forehead where it’s attached itself. When did he start sweating again?

He’s looking at them, they seem...cautiously optimistic. Like maybe they believe him.

“Ok,” Tommy says. “Thank you for the apology. We know we’re not conventional, and we probably should have expected that not everyone would be fine with us right away.”

“Honestly,” Favs says sheepishly. “We kinda forgot that not everyone knew. Most of the people have been with us since the campaign. They saw us do the weird dance of getting our shit together.” They laugh.

 _Oh_ Lovett thinks, so they got together sometime during the campaign. He didn’t want to ask.

“But,” Favs adds. “It hurt a bit to have you react like that because I didn’t expect you to be so prejudiced. You seem so open minded. You’re like, the most outspoken, open person I’ve ever met. So it was weird. I still don’t 100% understand.”

Lovett sighs. He wants to open up to them. To share parts of himself he never shares with anyone. It’s scary how comfortable he feels in their presence.

“I think…,” Lovett starts. “I put up a good front I think. But deep down my insecurities are huge. Like Rocky Mountains massive. So when something kinda shakes my world view, I don’t always react well. Look...the point is. I’m used to being questioned. Sometimes I wear that like a shield because it’s easier than letting it wear me down. That’s no excuse of course, I shouldn’t treat you the way others have treated me. That’s bullshit.”

 

Lovett exhales, heavily once he finally stops speaking. Ashamed by how easy that was, how candidly he spoke. Ashamed by how safe he feels, sitting here with them. He knows it’s his brain, body and soul telling him these are his people. He still doesn’t like how easily he’s just capitulated to those instincts.

“We get that,” Tommy says. “Seriously, we’re cool to leave the past in the past if you are. You’re a really solid dude. You say you wear it like a shield, your insecurity around those things that make you different. But we, or at least I, am encouraged by how you’re unapologetically yourself.”

“The three of us together create the most norm breaking group,” Favs adds with a chuckle. “We’re bisexual, you’re gay, I have a catholic background, you’re Jewish and then me and Tommy have the weird dynamics shit to deal with. At least you were spared that. Don’t get me wrong, I’m comfortable with being who I am and I love Tommy not despite of who he is but because of it. But damn, life would be easier as a beta.”

Lovett laughs, hysterically, hollow. God. He feels feverish. Their scents are so strong, aren’t they stronger than they were five minutes ago? What is going on?

“Yeah about that…” he squirms on the couch.

 

 _Oh no_. He feels something. Something he’s not supposed to feel right now. It’s not supposed to be biologically possible. Last time this happened his doctor had re-adjusted his dosage so it would not happen even when in close proximity to his heat triggers. Fuck.

He can feel his body producing slick, he’s starting to get really wet.

“What do you…” Tommy starts to ask. Then he kinda stops, mid air. Sniffs, as if unable to stop himself. Favs has tensed up. Also unable to stop himself from inhaling.

“Are you...Lovett…” Favs says, voice rough now.

“Sorry! Sorry!” Lovett exclaims, flushed, embarrassed. “I’m so sorry. This is not how I was going to tell you, damn it.”

“You’re an omega?” Tommy’s eyes are almost glazed over, he’s gripping Favs shoulders so tightly, his knuckles are turning white.

Lovett nods.

“Yep, sorry, so sorry, I presented late, so late I didn’t want to like, deal with it, so I found a doctor. The suppressants are supposed to stop this from happening. I don’t know what the fuck is wrong because it’s not supposed to happen.”

“Are you...going into heat?” Favs sounds as if he’s seen a ghost, or witnessed a murder and lived to tell the tale, shell shocked.

“Maybe,” Lovett allows, trying to feel what his body is trying to tell him instead of ignoring it. He can still sort of sense the suppressants’ boundaries.

“I don’t think it’s a real heat,” he finally says. Another pseudo heat because of course, he should have known. They’re always going to be the exception to every rule for him.

“I think...I haven’t really been around alphas a lot since I presented. Not like this at least. So maybe my body is just reacting to that.” The lie is only half a lie which makes it easier for him to let it slip out. “I’m sorry. I should try my luck with the bed bugs at the hostel instead.”

“No,” Favs voice is suddenly very clear, his eyes no longer glazed over. “No you stay here, I think...I think I can tell that it’s, it’s not as strong as an actual heat. But you’re probably not gonna feel great the next few hours. It’s better if you’re here so we can look after you.”

“Look after you,” Tommy agrees. “Not jump you. I swear, it’s a lot less like I want to knot you and a lot more like I want to protect you and keep you hydrated.”

Lovett whimpers when Tommy says “knot you” and Favs groans, Tommy blushes.

“I mean, it’s not that we’re not also thinking of THAT,” Tommy amends. “But it’s not an overwhelming compulsion. Yet anyway.”

Lovett shakes his head trying to clear it. “Right, right. And I’m not gonna throw myself at either of you. I’m no homewrecker or what have you. Maybe just lock me in the bathroom if it gets worse? I’m gonna take an extra pill right now to hold it off even more.”

“That’s ok with your doctor?” Favs asks, concerned.

Lovett nods. “Yeah, desperate times calls for desperate measures.”

 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

After that they all make a conscious attempt to make the situation more manageable. Tommy turns the AC down even more and grabs some ice packs from the freezer. Favs orders chinese take-out, because it’s getting late and, despite the slight heat daze that’s settled over them all, they’re still hungry.

Lovett takes his meds and tries to clean himself up a bit in the bathroom. He attempts to clean up the slick that’s dripped down his thighs but when he wipes his hole it clenches and more slick comes out. He feels his cock get hard in less than two seconds and he groans.

“You ok in there?” he hears Favs voice ask from outside the door.

“Yeah,” he squeaks. “I’ll be right out.”

There’s no other way to solve this, it’s definitely not ideal since they can smell him and will know exactly what’s going on. It’s so easy to slip a finger in, and then another. Lovett has to stop himself because he feels so open he might be able to put his whole fist in. Not that he’s ever actually done that but nothing feels impossible in this moment. Damn he wants to try but he shouldn’t. He wouldn’t be able to keep quiet through that, no way. Besides, if he went that far and still didn’t feel satisfied, he’s pretty sure his heat addled brain would scream for a knot. Anyway! The point is he’s not sure he’d be able to stop himself from demanding a knot from his co-workers waiting on the other side of the door.

Oh shit. Just thinking about that is good enough to almost push him over the edge. He jerks himself off fast, so fast, and comes in less than a minute, hot and hard, his vision going white as he sags against the wall.

This scenario isn’t ideal, he thinks as he finishes cleaning himself up and drying himself off. In his fantasies this is not how this reveal would go. The few times he’d let himself imagine it, he’d have them helping him out, taking care of him in every way that counts.

Fuck. Now is not the time to go down that rabbit hole. He needs to snap out of it before he makes things even worse. Lovett inhales deeply to center himself, trying to ignore their scents even as they settle at the back of his throat.

Aiming to get dressed again he realizes his boxers are almost soaked with slick, there’s no way he can wear them again today. Luckily it didn’t get through to his shorts so he puts them on. Going commando is not ideal but he can’t ask them for clean clothes. He won’t. He shoves the dirty boxers into one of his back pockets.

 

When he exits the bathroom, they’re both flushed, clothes a bit rumpled, Favs stepping back a bit from where Tommy is standing with his back against the kitchen counter. Yeah, they could totally smell him.

He sniffs. They didn’t do what he just did, but given their rumpled appearance and their swollen lips they weren’t far behind. A quick, hopefully subtle glance, tells him they’re both hard in their sweatpants. Fuck.

“I can still lock myself in the bathroom for the rest of the night,” he offers. “If that’s less uncomfortable for you.”

“No,” Tommy says. “We got this. We’re kinda used to pushing the boundaries of biology anyway. Also, not sure if you realize dude, but like...even if you’re in there we can still smell you. So.”

Lovett blushes. “Yeah, but you could do more about it. If you need privacy just like...let me know.”

Favs laughs, breathily. “I think we can keep ourselves in check, but we’ll let you know if that changes.”

“Not that I wouldn’t mind watching,” Lovett tries to joke but it’s so true that it falls flat. They all chuckle awkwardly.

“Before this you didn’t even want to be around us and now you want to watch us fuck,” Tommy says, also trying to joke but not really being able to avoid the disbelief coloring his voice.

“I always wanted to be around you, that was literally never the problem,” Lovett admits, a slight whine coming through. “Look…”

His brain is heat addled and he’s lost his brain to mouth filter. The truth is seeping out through his scent anyway. Before they can get into it again, the doorbell rings.

 

“That’s got to be our food,” Tommy approaches the door to get the delivery.

“Be careful,” Favs says, baseline alpha protectiveness coming through. Some basic instinct not wanting other people around an omega in heat, even if it isn’t a real heat.

Lovett snorts. “Don’t scare off the poor beta, we don’t want them running off with our food. I’m starving.”

 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

This is not how Lovett envisioned his Friday night to go. No way. But as they settle on the couch, with chinese food in their laps, he can’t help but feel more content than he has in years.

They’re sitting snuggled together on one end of the couch while Lovett is sitting as far away on the opposite side as he can get, but it still doesn’t feel awkward.

This is comfortable, it’s easy. It’s everything he’s been telling himself he could never have. The hangover from this experience is going to be brutal. At least they’re travelling with the president next week, so he’ll have time to re-set. To get over this again, suffer through the withdrawal.

 

“What?” Favs and Tommy simultaneously exclaim, aghast.

Oops. Did he say that last part out loud?

He puts his bowl of food down on the table and hides his face in his hands, groans.

“I need a new ice pack,” he grumbles as he feels the wetness from the one he’d kept pressed against his neck. Tommy quickly hands him a new one, then looks at him expectantly.

“Well?” Favs says after a minute or so of tense silence.

“Do we really have to do this now?” Lovett mutters, his mind racing. Maybe he could get out of here anyway. So what it’s already close to 8pm, there’s got to be at least one hotel that would take him in even at this hour.

“I think we do,” Tommy states, softly, matter of fact. He’s clearly trying to come across as non-threatening as possible as he reaches out to press another ice-pack against Lovett’s neck.

It’s working, god damn it, it’s working and Lovett wants to tell them anything they want to know. He wants to bare his throat, slip to his knees, beg for forgiveness.

Fuck. When is that pill going to start kicking in? His mind is usually nowhere near this loose and unpredictable. If all else fails he’s usually able to trust his intellect and quick wit, but not even that is helping him right now.

 

“Our relationship caught you off guard,” Favs starts. Lovett nods, that part is still true, he didn’t lie about that. “But...is this another reason why you’ve been avoiding us?”

“This...?” Lovett knows he’s stalling. Favs groans, frustrated.

“Your dynamics, did you think...I mean, did you think we wouldn't understand? That we wouldn’t respect your boundaries? Not all alphas are insensitive jerks, you know that, right?”

“I know,” Lovett says. “Obviously I know you guys are not like that. You’re alphas and you’re together which basically disproves a whole encyclopedia of alpha stereotypes.”

“So why did you say you need to “get over this”?” Tommy asks, quoting Lovett’s own words back at him.

 

Lovett has been getting over this. He had to get over it when he presented and decided to not seek out his alpha, he had to get over it again when he realized these two were his alphas, and then he had to work to try to get over it once more when he realized they were together and happy without him.

Now, after this, he’ll have to try to do it again. Every time it gets harder. Every time it’s like the stitches he’s placed over the hole in his heart gets ripped open and his heart bruises even more in the process of trying to stitch it back together.

Before he can try to explain himself, Favs starts sniffing the air again. “Hold on...I think...how do you feel now Lovett? Your smell is more muted to me now, still there, but turned way down.”

 

Lovett startles at the turn the conversation took, he was ready to bare his soul but now maybe he won’t have to. He takes inventory of his body again. Yes, yes it seems like the extra suppressant he popped is starting to work.

“It’s going away,” he says, relieved. “I can feel it going away, kinda like...kinda like when you have a fever and the Tylenol finally kicks in.” He shivers, suddenly feeling cold and a bit clammy. Maybe he can think straight soon, that would be helpful.

“Good,” Tommy smiles encouragingly. “It’s probably better, if we’re not halfway crazy due to dynamics bullshit.”

Lovett wishes once again that he could run away and hide. They are still looking at him, expecting this conversation to keep going. He gulps, tries his hardest not to drop his gaze, to keep looking at them.

Fine, he’s just going to have to take the bull by the horns. He nods, agreeing with Tommy’s sentiment.

“Turn down the AC first, I know it’s literally burning hot outside but that’s no reason for us to turn into popsicles in here.”

 

He can tell that the others want to respond with a joke, probably something about how he’d been as hot as a thousand suns just minutes prior, but they’re holding back. Which is understandable, they’re still feeling out the boundaries of this new version of their friendship.

Lovett hopes that he’ll get the chance to get to know them better, to let them get to know him better. Make them comfortable with his jokes as well as comfortable enough to retaliate, have an easy banter. That is, if this conversation goes well. He’s not sure that it will.

He’s of a cynical nature, at least that's what he likes to portray to the world. His fragile, hopeful heart is something he hides deep down and shelters, protects fiercely. Sometimes he almost forgets it’s there.

 

Favs walks over to the AC control panel on the wall, changes the settings, and then returns to his position next to Lovett on the couch. Tommy is still seated on the armrest, and once more places his hands on Favs’ shoulders, lightly.

“Fuck,” Lovett says, letting out a slightly hysterical laugh. “I could use a drink. Or ten. Or some weed, that would be fucking fantastic right about now. Look...the point is, why aren’t we allowed to smoke pot while working at the White House huh, Tommy?”

Tommy just shakes his head, looking at Lovett with a fond yet exasperated expression on his face. Lovett can tell Tommy’s also a bit nervous because he’s started to absentmindedly turn a coin over in his hands.

“No more stalling,” Tommy says. “Start from the beginning. We’re missing key parts of the story. You presented late, so you met someone heat compatible, right?”

“I did,” Lovett confirms. This part is easy to admit to. Nothing too specific. “Two people actually,” he adds.

“Oh,” Favs sounds a bit gut punched. Like he wasn’t expecting that.

Lovett shoots him a quick glance, he looks tense.

 

“So...did that not go well? I mean…” It’s obvious Favs is struggling with how to frame the question, not wanting to come across as insensitive. Lovett’s not going to help him along so he just sits and waits.

“Feel free to correct us,” Tommy continues instead. “But if you matched up that well with two alphas, why would you hide your omega status? What went wrong?”

Breathe in...breathe out...with your mouth, try not to use your nose. Inhale...exhale…

He’s trying to slow down his treacherous heartbeat. He’s honestly feeling surprisingly calm at this point. It’s all going to come out now. What will be, will be.

However, Lovett still doesn’t want to make it easy for them to get the truth out of him. He can’t just say it, the words won’t form in his mouth.

“I presented late,” he repeats. “I didn’t want to deal with it. The people biology connect me with, they weren’t aware. I made sure they stayed unaware.”

 

Something falls to the floor with a thud, sharp in the quiet room. Tommy has dropped the coin he’d been turning over in his hand while Lovett spoke. Lovett knows Tommy does that sometimes. Knows he likes having something in his hands while he’s listening to someone talk, having something to concentrate his nervous energy on. It is one of those things Lovett has noticed from observing him in White House meetings, one of the things he’s catalogued in the back of his mind. Just like how he knows Jon prefers to chew on things when he’s nervous, a lot of pencils have suffered that fate over the past few months. Clearly Lovett’s statement has shocked Tommy enough to drop the coin. Actually, they both seem pretty stunned by the revelation.

“What?” Favs just says, mouth agape. “Why would you... no, how could you not...don’t you think they deserve to know?”

“How can they not know?” Tommy adds. “Your scent isn’t exactly subtle,” he says and shrugs a bit, embarrassed by even having to say that. “And in order to present you must have met them, so how can they not know?”

“At the time they were a bit distracted,” Lovett allows, because he’s honestly never blamed them for not picking up on it when he did.

It’s also a bit funny that even now when they can smell him they don’t realize. It kinda cements his belief that the biological imprinting never even happened on their side of things. Or, his hopeful heart supplies, the suppressants coursing through his veins could be distorting his scent. Could be keeping them from realizing.

 

“I’m also pretty sure this was one of those rare occurrences where their bodies weren’t receiving the same biological signals as mine was.”

“That’s just…” Tommy seems at a loss for words. “I can’t even imagine that,” he settles for saying. “I’m sorry Jon.”

“Yeah,” Favs says. “But like...you’re sure about this? If you’ve never said anything then how can you know for sure? I mean...ok rare things happen, obviously. Just you being an omega or the two of us being alphas is rare. Then me and Tommy being matched despite every known rule about how the biology of these things are actually supposed to work...that’s obviously extremely rare. So I’m not saying you’re wrong. But how can you know for sure?”

That was a long ramble of words, it takes Lovett a while to sort through what he actually said, what he actually asked.

“So you two, you feel that thing then?” he decides to ask, still stalling a bit. “Like...that destiny, magical biological pull? That connection? Despite your status?”

They both nod, Tommy unconsciously moving to slip his right hand into Fav’s left one, placing them on Favs collarbone, casually.

“I’m glad,” he says, voice thick now, he hates that they can probably tell that he’s getting choked up. Damn it.

“That’s also…” he takes a breath. Looks away from them, can’t face their understanding demeanour, their loving togetherness.

“That’s how I know,” he finally says. “You don’t need me.”

 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

It’s so quiet. Lovett can’t make himself look up, eyes trained on his own feet. Trying to breathe. His mind racing, what’s the backup plan here?

A shitty hotel room for a few days then he can hand in his resignation before Obama leaves on the big Asia trip. He’ll go back to Long Island and lick his wounds, hiding in his parents’ spare room until he figures out what to do next. How to go on from here, how to move on from this, from them.

Somehow he has to do it, he’ll find a way.

His right foot can’t be still, it’s twitching, a full shudder travels up through his body.

He can’t just sit here and wait for them to turn him down. With kindness, of course, with sympathy. He won’t be able to stand it.

 

“OK,” he says, after what feels like five hundred lifetimes. “Now you know. I’ll get out of your hair, we never have to talk about this again.”

He moves to get up, moves to get away.

He’s still not looking up so he freezes when he feels a hand grab his shoulder and push him back down, so that he can’t get up from the couch. It’s Favs hand.

Slowly Lovett forces himself to look.

Favs has leaned his whole upper body forward, into Lovett’s space, hand firmly placed on his shoulder, putting weight into it, really working to hold him in place without being too up close and his posture threatening.

Tommy has...Lovett doesn’t see him first because he’s not on the armrest anymore. Then he spots him, crouched down on his haunches on the floor. Next to Favs’ knees, also close to Lovett’s, hand poised as if he wants to put his hand there, on Lovett’s knee.

 

“Don’t leave,” Favs says, voice breaking. He looks so thoroughly devastated by the mere thought of Lovett bolting. “Please...we...please don’t.”

“Please,” Tommy repeats, and carefully places his hand on Lovett’s knee without breaking eye contact with him.

“Thanks for telling us,” he adds with a somewhat frustrated yet relieved undertone. The ‘finally’ isn’t spoken but very much implied. “It’s your turn to listen now, can you do that?”

Lovett squirms. He really doesn’t want to sit through this. He can already tell how it’s going to go. “You don’t have to do this,” he protests. “I already know where we stand, it’s fine.”

“It is _not_ fine,” Favs interrupts, sharply, a lot of power behind the words.

When Lovett meets his eyes they are burning with barely held back emotions. There’s some rage there, but there’s something else too, something fierce that Lovett can’t quite name yet.

“You not sharing this with us when it happened, that wasn’t fine, for starters. When did it happen exactly? Was it that time last year when both campaigns stayed at the same hotel?”

“Yeah,” Lovett agrees, quietly.

He’s surrendered to the situation, this is happening regardless of how much his flight instinct is telling him to get the hell out of there.

“I guess maybe that was obvious,” he forces himself to laugh, no humor detected. “ It was the first occasion that could really trigger anything.”

“It probably was yeah,” Tommy agrees. “But Jon, that’s not why that night first came to mind.”

Lovett blinks at him, confused.

“That night is when we first got together,” Favs explains. “Honestly, we should have realized that there was something else going on.”

 

What.

Lovett can’t feel his face anymore. He knows he must have like, toes and fingers but he can’t feel them either. He’s staring. Can’t even blink. It feels like his brain has gone offline. Like it packed up and checked out.

“It was confusing, we already had feelings for each other and we kinda edged on hooking up a few times but never got around to it,” Tommy continues. “Then that night it all just seemed to snap into place, both of us going into rut at the same time and instead of wanting to kill each other we...”

“Instead of wanting to kill each other we wanted to fuck each other, a lot,” Favs is blushing a bit. “When we finally got out of the haze we did some research and realized this wasn’t exactly normal. But we knew we’d “imprinted” or whatever people like to call it. We don’t really use that term but then we don’t really use any term. We’re just us and we know we’re different.”

“Anyway,” Tommy picks up the thread of the conversation again, looking a bit worriedly at Lovett who still hasn’t moved a muscle, still hasn’t said a word. No sound, not even a whimper has left his mouth.

“Of course we saw research that said two alphas can’t imprint because of each other. It’s possible for two alphas to be perfect matches, even if it’s rare, but in every other known occasion an omega is involved too.”

“We just assumed we were unique,” Favs concludes. “We really should have known better.”

“During our rut we were so out of it, but honestly I don’t get how we didn’t realize we were smelling you. An omega in heat, how the fuck did we miss that?” Tommy sounds upset.

“We did talk a bit afterwards, and did some research, but we knew there were no omegas in our campaign. When we looked up Clinton’s we found no dynamics there either that weren’t beta. So we put the whole thing behind us. We should have dug deeper. Please forgive us.”

Tommy is pleading now, and Favs is nodding along, looking so sad and upset by the thought that they’d failed him.

 

“What?” Lovett finally croaks. “I don’t...You’re not just...you’re not just saying this to be nice are you? I mean...you two... clearly fate or biology or whatever, knew what it was doing there.  Me...I’m just...me.”

“Don’t talk about yourself like that,” Favs admonishes. “Jon, you’re absolutely brilliant. And like, OK, you might not like this part but I have got to say it...our basic instincts are screaming at us right now that we’re YOUR alphas. You’re OUR omega. That’s...that means something. That means so much.”

“It’s everything,” Tommy says, quietly, almost as softly as his breathing. “Obviously we have a lot to figure out. Get to know each other. A lot of time to make up for. But please, don’t ever think we don’t want you or that we don’t want this. We just got a head start. But you were always meant to be here with us.”

They are looking at each other now, with fond smiles, turning their gaze back to him, still smiling fondly, lovingly. Frustrating fondness, he doesn’t know what to do with it.

 

If he were asked to describe the sensations that fill his body as he fully takes in what they’re saying, he couldn’t do it. For once in his life he’s experiencing something that he truly can’t put into words. He hears himself whimper, a whine escaping his throat without permission, something from deep down. An instinctive reaction to them talking about him as if he’s precious, as if he’s theirs.

There’s nothing Lovett wants more. There’s a sharp pain to this devastating hope that’s trying to claw its way back into his open chest, it’s sharp and it’s making him almost double over. He wants this to be real, so bad. Yet he can’t let himself have it, can’t let it be this easy. Can’t they see, it can’t be this easy? He has to object, try to bring reason back to the conversation.

He reaches for his Diet Coke, still on the side table next to his forgotten bowl of Chinese food, and with trembling hands he takes a sip before speaking.

“Even if our biology has primed us to be together, how do I know that won’t just go away one day?” he interjects. “At least you two were already exploring a real relationship before.”

“Lovett, don’t be naive. Before like, an hour ago, we were totally clueless to any of this right?”

Lovett nods, reluctantly.

“Right,” Favs continues. “But we were still drawn to you...”

 

What.

 

He’s left staring in disbelief, his treacherous heart fluttering in his chest, daring to hope. This emotional rollercoaster is getting exhausting, as if getting caught in a heatwave and experiencing a pseudo heat wasn’t enough to tire him out, now there's this. How many obstacles can he conquer in the span on an afternoon? Jon Lovett wasn’t designed to suffer through emotional conversations. Emotional conversations where he’s thrown back and forth between hope and despair are even worse.

“As far as we knew, you were a beta. We love each other and if it was anyone else we wouldn’t have been interested. But we still wanted you. Whenever we talked about you it just felt right,” Tommy adds, matter of fact. As if his words aren’t turning Lovett’s world upside down, shaking him to his core.

“I was so excited when I managed to hire you,” Favs chuckles, his expression going soft and fond again as he smiles at Lovett. “

Tommy smiles as well before he adds: “We knew we both wanted the same thing, we felt strongly that we wanted you to be closer, to be here with us.”

Lovett can feel his body trying to fight of the suppressant, this is everything his biology has wanted for so long. It’s a good thing he took that extra pill when he did.

“Maybe...maybe subconsciously, you know, like, your bodies realized,” Lovett tries again to protest.

“Maybe,” they both allow, speaking as one then grinning sheepishly at each other, Favs bumping shoulders with Tommy who has risen from the floor and sat down on the armrest again.

“But that’s...it was still there before you presented,” Tommy explains. “We thought you seemed like an attractive, fun, smart guy. It felt unfair that you were on the Clinton campaign. I can’t explain it better than that.”

“Why are you so determined to resist this?” Favs asks, seeming genuinely baffled. As if it’s not making sense to him. As if everything should be solved by now.

 

He really has no idea how deep Lovett’s insecurities run, how lonely he’s been for so long, keeping this big secret. Lovett really doesn’t know how to explain any of it either, he can hear that his protests aren’t worth much, logically he realizes that. His whole being is screaming at him to just surrender, to just accept that for once he has a shot at everything he’s ever wanted. To apologize to fate for calling her a conniving bitch set to ruin his life. He shudders, as he struggles to answer, feels his eyes start to well up. Fuck.

 

Suddenly a phone beeps, loudly, the notification sound cutting through the tension in the room.  Lovett’s sniffles also get interrupted, but he’s still trying to hold back the tears he can feel pooling in his eyes.

It makes Favs jump, because it’s his phone, laying snugly in the pocket of his sweats. He picks it out and just stares at it for a minute. "It's a text from Alyssa,” he says. He reads it over, brows furrowing. "She's making sure I got the speech and... Wonders whether you were a dick to us."

Favs, or Jon as Lovett’s hopeless brain wants to call him as suddenly Favs doesn’t feel intimate enough, pauses. He looks at Lovett, searching. Lovett looks down, still easily upset by that assumption. That he would treat them badly. That he would intentionally be nasty to them or hurt them. Lovett then shakes his head slightly as if wanting to refute the claim but not quite able to, then he shrugs. "I think she's in for a big surprise," he says, his frown turning into a small smile as their eyes light up with unguarded joy.

"You want to tell her?" Jon asks, sounding hopeful, cautiously happy.

Nothing about this situation is easy and even if the three of them can get it together, which the hope that’s started to blossom in Lovett’s poor beaten down heart is telling him they can, there’s still a lot of complications.

“As soon as we figure this out,” Lovett gestures to the three of them. “We’ll let her know what’s going on.”

“You’re cool with that?” Tommy asks. “I mean...you’re cool with everyone knowing?”

Lovett wipes his face on the back of his hand, shrugs.

“I always thought… look, I thought that if we ever got to this point, if you knew the truth -- I always figured that I’d stop hiding. Own up to my truth,” he smiles sheepishly. “But I should probably tell my mom before we like...tell the president,” he adds with a laugh.

They seem less tense now. Smiles almost breaking through, as if they can feel his resolve weakening. There’s hope settling in their features. Yet, Jon furrows his brow again.

“Hey, did you...did you never tell ANYONE? No one?”

“About my dynamics?” They nod “No, I didn’t. It didn’t seem...important. Or relevant. It was easier to just ignore it. Only my doctor knows, and now you...obviously.”

Tommy lets out a small hurt sound at that, he looks sad again, they both do. Lovett realizes they’re sad for him. For his self imposed loneliness. Sad that they couldn’t be there for him. This is something they’re never going to be able to fully understand because they have been raised as alphas since they reached puberty. They have proudly disclosed their dynamics even when it wasn’t required of them.

“It’s ok,” he says. “We’re here now. Things are changing.”

“Everything will be different,” Jon says firmly. “If you let it. We’re sticking around. If you let us.”

It’s quiet again, for a moment. There’s nothing Lovett wants more and he’s running out of ways to protest. Their words are finally louder than his own negative thoughts. He’s tired. He nods. A small, barely noticeable nod. He swallows, hard, bites his cheek to keep from speaking. He’s not sure what words would come out right now if he tried to articulate how much this moment means to him.

 

“Can I...could we…” Tommy looks conflicted. “Is it ok if we hug you?”

There’s a rush of air, as Lovett inhales too fast, he wasn’t expecting that. He blinks at them. They both look so sincere, arms reached out, cautious. Just waiting for his cue.

“I...yes. Yes you can,” he finally replies.

This is the last straw, he can feel it. When they touch him like this, he’s not going to be able to hold them off anymore. He’s not going to want to. He doesn’t want to, his skin is itching for them. His heart is screaming for them. Even his brain is starting to quiet down. In a way he’ll never be ready, he’ll never feel like he knows for sure if this is right for the right reasons or not. But he’s at the point where he doesn’t care anymore.

Lovett is still looking at his feet as they approach him. He feels Jon's arms slipping around him first, from behind, pulling him close to his chest. His heart beats so fast, so hard, he can feel Jon’s’ heart doing the same, pressed up against his back.Then he sees Tommy approaching, sees his feet come closer to Lovett’s. He feels his arms, enveloping him from the front, his face suddenly pressed into Tommy’s chest. He inhales, deeply, for the first time. Totally encapsulated by their scents, by their bodies. For the first time since he presented, he feels himself relax. His body going lax. He can feel himself not just lowering his guards, pulling his walls down, but obliterating them. There’s nothing left.

Finally, he cries. He can feel their bodies shaking with quiet sobs too. There’s something very healing about the whole thing. It feels right.

 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Somehow they’ve all ended up on the couch. A couch that isn’t really big enough for three grown men to lie on at the same time. Somehow they’ve managed. They’re cuddled together, in a pile of limbs and laughter. The tension of the evening has mostly melted away. Tommy is feeding Lovett reheated Chinese food while Jon is rubbing his feet that are comfortably perched on his lap. Lovett doesn’t think he’s ever felt so safe or so cared for before.

“I missed you guys,” he admits after swallowing another bite, Tommy putting the empty bowl down. “Avoiding you was awful.”

“It wasn’t great for us either,” Jon deadpans.

“There were so many things I wanted to talk to you about,” Lovett continues. “Great jokes I missed the opportunity to tell, stories you’ll never hear. What a shame.”

Tommy chuckles, wraps his right arm around Lovett’s waist, from where he’s sitting squished in behind him.

“You’ll have plenty of new opportunities to tell us jokes, and stories. I have a feeling we’ll be looking for an off switch soon, to get you to shut up every once in a while.”

“I can think of plenty of ways for you to shut me up,” Lovett says, smirking as they both flush. “You’re so easy to wind up,” he exclaims happily. “Actually, get used to blushing because I have questions, so many questions, and you better answer them no matter what!”

“Questions about...sex?” Jon guesses, still very red.

Lovett nods, pleased with the turn the conversation is taking. Oh, he’s looking forward to making them sweat.

“Actually there’s something I’ve been thinking about quite a lot…” he trails off, looking at them both, in a way he hopes comes across as coy and flirty.

Unfortunately it’s not a look that comes naturally to him so worst case scenario he just looks constipated. Whatever. It seems to be working because they can not take their eyes off him.

“Knotting,” he says then pausing for the dramatic effect. He feels Tommy freeze up behind him, arm around his waist going lax, Jon’s hand on his foot coming to a halt.

“How does that even work with two alphas? Not even my very active imagination has been able to figure that out. Sadly. Because it would have been great jerk-off material, I’m sure.”

“Umm…” Tommy starts, shifts a little, uncomfortable.

Oh hello there, Lovett can feel something new pressing up against him. Guess Little Tommy is getting excited by the topic of conversation. He makes sure to press back against him, firmly. Hoping to show he’s very much into that, he hears Tommy groan quietly, muffling his noises by putting his mouth on Lovett’s shoulder.

“We’ve done that, both of us,” Jon says, surprisingly serious. His eyes are lit with a fire Lovett’s never seen there before. “Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“Tell me more,” Lovett barely recognizes his own voice now, hoarse. Tommy moves his hand to his nipple, caressing it softly, then pinching hard. Lovett sucks in a breath, pleads for Jon to keep talking.

“You want to hear how I like choking on his knot as I’m sucking him off?” he continues, eyes locked with Tommy, growing impossibly harder against Lovett’s backside.

“Or how we have to use so much lube to be able to fuck? With enough lube it’s possible to do almost anything. I’ve sat on his knot until it went down, more than once. I’ve fucked him into the bed and come so hard the knot stayed filling him up for an hour. Is that what you want to hear, Lo?”

Lovett whimpers. He’s so hard. If it wasn’t for the extra suppressant he knows the slick would have been pouring down his legs by now. He wants to purr. Wants to bare his throat and spread his legs for them. To give it all up.

“Honestly... You have no idea how many times we’ve talked about you in bed,” Jon's smile has turned slightly filthy, leering almost and damn if Lovett’s heart isn’t trying to jump out of his chest.

 He wishes for heat to sweep him away again. At least then he’d have a logical explanation for this overwhelming desire he’s suddenly feeling.

“I wanna see,” he whispers. “You should kiss. Now.”

Lovett moves suddenly, in a frenzy, breaking out of Tommy’s embrace, taking Jon’s hand off his foot. He stumbles up from the couch almost falling to the floor and braining himself in the process. Once he’s standing on unsteady feet before them, he looks at them, impatiently.

“Go ahead,” he snaps his fingers. “Kiss. Show me.”

Jon slides forward on the couch, eyes locked with Tommy who meets him halfway. This is different than the soft embrace Lovett had witnessed in the West Wing that one time. This is hot, clumsy and impatient. Their mouths meet in a rush, noses colliding. Jon has Tommy pressed up against the armrest in no time, Tommy holding onto his shoulder blades, pulling him closer. Their hips have started to move, unconsciously, they’re grinding against each other, their sweatpants rustling softly as they move together. It’s everything he’d ever imagined. Lovett can’t help but slide his hand down to the bulge in his khaki shorts. He could get off like this, just by watching them hump each other like horny teenagers. But he wants more. He just hopes they do too. He’s feeling self conscious again now, out of the blue, awkward again.

“Umm…” he clears his throat. “I don’t want to interrupt the free show,” he says as they reluctantly break apart to pay attention to what he’s saying. “But umm...I was just wondering, can you still smell me?”

“No,” Tommy says after sniffing the air for a few seconds. He sounds disappointed. “No, the suppressant has taken all that away.”

“That’s what I thought,” Lovett mutters. “OK. You can keep going, I’ll be over here, watching. Don’t worry about me, it’s great for me. I’m really enjoying it.” He gestures towards the hardness in his shorts, as if to prove he’s really just fine with this arrangement.

“But…” Jon looks confused, dazed beyond his horny, needy appearance. “Don’t you want to join us?”

“I do! I totally do. I very much want that. So much. But you can’t smell me anymore. I’m just like any beta to you now. Once I’m off the suppressants it’ll be different, I can wait.”

They exchange looks again, Lovett feels like he’s getting better at reading these moments of silent communication. They definitely seem exasperated. Then they seem to come to some sort of agreement and they both turn to him again.

“You’re so dumb,” Jon says, a fond undertone to his voice. “We just told you we wanted you before we knew you were our omega. Did you forget about that?”

Lovett blushes. Right. They did say that. He might have to take their word for it. At this point it’s not even just their words, they’re both looking at him as if they could eat him up.

“I may recall you saying that,” he concedes, adapting his flirty tone again. “But that’s all words, I’ve seen no action to support the argument. Where are my kisses huh? I think you should show me you mean it!”

Tommy growls at that. Swiftly rising to his feet, he’s a steady, tall presence that is suddenly all up in Lovett’s space. His hand holding Lovett’s chin, keeping his face locked into place as those blue eyes stare into his soul. Someone could cut the sexual tension in this room with a knife, Lovett absentmindedly thinks, and cringes at how trite he sounds. Then Tommy’s mouth is on his and all coherent thoughts fly out the window.

It’s hot, wet and wonderful. Lovett finally gets to touch so he plants a clammy hand on Tommy’s toned torso, feeling the steady beat of his heart underneath the ratty t-shirt he’s wearing. His other hand he uses to angle Tommy’s face better by pulling his head down a bit, and pulling his hair at the same time.Tommy groans in his mouth, hips stuttering up, meeting Lovett’s. God, they’re both so hard. He can hear Jon curse and spots him in the corner of his eye, moving closer to them but still hesitating to get involved.

Eventually they run out of air and break apart, panting. Jon is now so close, he’s gripping Tommy’s shoulder tightly with one hand and caressing Lovett’s back with the other. Lovett is so ready to kiss him, to throw himself at him and kiss that smug smile off his face. Just as he’s about to make his move however, his body decides it’s time to speak up and he lets out a massive yawn. He flushes, embarrassed because he basically just yawned them both in the face. That’s not at all awkward...way to ruin the mood.

For the first time all night he’s worried about his breath, he tries to go over in his mind what he’s eaten today and luckily he’s not remembering any garlic. Only...what was in that Chinese food he just devoured? He almost freaks out for a minute. His heart rate starts speeding up again, but he forces himself to really think about it and no, he can’t remember any garlic. OK. Good. That’s one minor disaster averted. Not that they seemed to mind either way. Not even now that he’s released a good amount of recycled air in their faces.

Jon is smiling at him, suddenly not as smug, just a soft, gentle smile. Fond. Lovett might even go so far as to describe it as loving. Almost. If that kind of thinking wasn’t dangerous territory this early on when they’re still just trying to find their footing in this new situation. Love might be the underlying consensus here but it’s still a topic for later discussion. He’d rather not have his insecurities flare up again by going down that road in his mind. Not tonight. Tonight has already been a lot. Who knew getting what you’d stopped hoping for could be so tiring.

“We should move this to the bedroom,” Jon says. Lovett tries to make a sexy face at that, hinting at all the things he wants to do to them in that bedroom. He just ends up scrunching his face up to yawn again. Damn. Tonight has been exhausting but he was really hoping his body would hang in there a while longer. We’ve wanted this for so long, he wants to say to it. Don’t fail me now.

“It’s late and we’re all tired,” Jon concludes while taking Lovett’s hand and entangling their fingers.

“Tired and horny,” Lovett grumbles. Tommy laughs and removes a stray curl that’s fallen down onto his forehead, he leaves his finger there just a tad longer than needed as if he can’t bare to not be touching him in some way.

“In bed there’s a high probability that we could fix both those things,” he says cheekily, as he grabs Lovett’s free hand and they both start pulling him with them as they head towards their bedroom.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

It’s mostly Lovett that needs to undress. The other two casually slip out of their sweatpants, toss their t-shirts off. He gets stuck standing there in the middle of the room just staring for a minute because damn. It should be illegal to look that good. Shirtless, toned bodies, their erections have gone down a bit but they’re still straining against the fabric of their boxers. Tommy looks a bit bigger, he notes somewhere in his foggy mind. He feels so overdressed but at the same time self-conscious in the light of all...that.

“Could I borrow a t-shirt to sleep in?” he asks, suddenly feeling a bit timid.

Tommy moves over to a dresser on the opposite wall from the bed, he’s going through a drawer, back turned towards Lovett and Jon. He’s got a real fine backside too, Lovett thinks, as he whistles appreciatively. Jon looks at him, knowingly, and nods as if to say yep, I know, that ass is so fine we should be fined for even looking at it.Finally Tommy turns, holding an old t-shirt with a Boston Bruins print.

“Is this ok?” he asks, looking at Lovett who nods quickly.

“Great, that’s great. OK,” he yawns loudly. Again. He starts unbuttoning his khaki shorts, almost tripping over his own feet in the process, he feels Jon’s hand on his shoulder, steadying him.

“Let me help with that,” he says, lowering himself in a swift move so that suddenly he’s crouching in front of Lovett, gripping the shorts and starting to work on the buttons. Lovett swallows, hard. This isn’t at all erotic or anything...this is a totally normal sight for him to behold. Favs gasps as he seems to realize Lovett isn’t wearing anything underneath the shorts, he slows down, face hovering just above Lovett’s crotch. Inhaling sharply as if he’s able to smell the remnants of slick that Lovett wasn’t able to scrub off his skin in the bathroom earlier.

“Here,” Tommy says, suddenly also being really close to Lovett. He didn’t really notice him move across the room, not that it’s a big room or anything...he was just too focused on Jon’s hands pulling his pants down to his ankles, starting to lift his feet to get them all the way off.

Tommy hands him the t-shirt.

“Thanks,” Lovett stutters, quickly taking off the one he’s wearing, hurrying to get Tommy’s on when his hand stop him. Tommy’s hand, moving up and down Lovett’s exposed chest, stops at one of his nipples, teasing it slightly. Lovett can’t help himself, he lets out a low moan.

 

Jon is done with the shorts and has even removed his socks, he’s moving back up, hands trailing the sides of Lovett’s body, fingertips softly touching. Jon stops when he’s reached Lovett's thighs. He looks edible as he’s looking up at Lovett from that position. Fuck. This is all so much.Lovett has finally managed to get Tommy’s t-shirt on, despite Tommy’s hands still rummaging around over his chest and stomach.

“So...bed?” he asks, voice shaking slightly.

Tommy removes his wandering hands, smooths down the shirt, smiles. Jon reluctantly lets go of Lovett’s thighs before coming all the way up to kiss him. A kiss that’s more on the soft and sleepy side than hot and desperate. Jon then turns to kiss Tommy in a similar way. Neither of them speak as they pull Lovett with them towards the bed, pushing him down to lay in the middle. Jon lays down on his right side and Tommy on his left.

“You’re here,” Jon says, wonder coloring his voice.

The bed is honestly not big enough for three grown men so they’re pressed together pretty tightly. Not that Lovett minds, this way he can really feel them. He can feel as present in this moment as he needs to feel in order to believe any of this is real.

“Too bad we’re all too tired to do much now that I’m finally here,” he yawns.

It’s such a shame, his dick is very much up for anything at the point. It’s the rest of his body that is screaming at him to just sink into the soft mattress and lose himself in the comfort of being safe, held between his two alphas, and just sleep.

“Not too tired for everything,” Tommy says, a statement that still sounds a bit like a question. “We could...we could take care of you,” he adds. “If you want.”

“I’m listening,” Lovett says, desire once more spiking, cutting through the sleepy haze of the moment.

“I want to suck you off,” Tommy replies, matter of fact. Jon is grinning now, nodding.

“He’s really good at it too,” he says. Lovett nods, quickly.

“Say it,” Tommy demands, wanting verbalized consent.

“Do it,” Lovett’s voice has gone rough, hoarse, coated in lust. “Blow me.”

As Tommy moves down the bed, Lovett sees Jon put his hand down his own boxers. Lovett shakes his head when he sees that, protesting.

“Nuh-uh, if you’re going to jerk off, I want to see it. I want to see you Jon,” he says, almost pleading.

Jon flushes deliciously, before sliding his boxers down to his knees, giving Lovett a much better view of his hard cock, red and already wet at the tip.Just as his brain is trying to process the sight of Jon Favreau spitting in the palm of his hand and starting to jerk off. Lovett lowers his gaze just in time to see Tommy Vietor open his mouth enough to get his lips around his erection and start taking him deeper and deeper. Holy shit. This is going to be over embarrassingly fast.

In the end, it’s a lazy, sleepy, very comfortable sort of sex. Tommy slowly, but confidently gets Lovett off with his talented mouth. He takes his time, seemingly enjoying the experience very much. Lovett is so sure it’s going to be over any second now but every time Tommy takes him to the edge, he pulls back, and it’s unlike anything he’s ever felt before. Every second he’s driven further out of his mind and his body barely feels like his own anymore.

It’s when Jon finally comes, shooting his load all over those toned abs, that’s when Lovett can’t hold it in any longer. Tommy swallows, just a few drips coming down his chin as he moves up again to kiss them. First he kisses Jon, as if to share the taste of Lovett still in his mouth. In any other circumstance he’d probably find unappealing, but right now, in his blissed out, sleepy, content state of mind, he finds it hot. Even a bit adorable. They really want him, every piece of him.

When Tommy lays down beside him again, Lovett reaches out, meaning to give him a lazy handjob as a thanks. Tommy blushes when Lovett’s hand finds soiled underwear instead of a straining erection. Tommy swats at his hand and hurries to get out of the messy boxers, while not meeting the eyes of neither Lovett nor Jon.

“Did he come already?” Jon asks, from the other side of the bed. Lovett nods, too stunned to actually speak.

Jon hums, sounding pleased. “He does that sometimes, really loves sucking cock, our Tommy.”

“I really do like it,” Tommy says finally looking up again from under his eyelashes, a little shy under their scrutiny. Lovett can’t help himself, he has to kiss him again.

 

Eventually they settle down, laying together in one sweaty pile in the middle of the bed. Lovett is cocooned between them, held there by Tommy’s long leg from the one side and Jon’s protective arm from the other. Lovett is resting his head on Jon’s chest while Tommy is spooning him at the same time. It’s the most comfortable he’s ever felt in his life. He never wants anything more than this. Just as he can feel himself drifting off into sleep he remembers one thing he hasn’t addressed yet.

“I’ll go off the suppressants while you’re in Asia,” he says, almost whispering, not wanting to disturb the tranquil, peaceful quietness that has settled over the room. “If you think you’re up for taking some heat leave when you get back. Pretty sure you’ll trigger it the minute you get off the plane.”

“Sounds like a great plan,” Jon murmurs into his hair. Pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Wish we didn’t have to leave.”

“Nice to have something to look forward to when we get back though,” Tommy yawns, pulling Lovett -- and by extension, Jon -- even closer to his chest.

No one needs to say any more, they’re on the same page. Lovett lets his eyes slip closed, a content smile on his lips. He can hear their breathing evening out just before he finally succumbs and lets sleep take him away.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  


 

> _“ Hope is that thing inside us that insists, despite all the evidence to the contrary, that something better awaits us if we have the courage to reach for it and to work for it and to fight for it_ _.”_  - **Barack Obama**

  
  
  
  
  
  



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